


What It Is

by Dana



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-whump fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene's better at this than he gives himself credit for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It Is

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet posted for the twenty fourth day of the advent calendar over at the **lifein1973** LJ comm! What I WANTED to do this year was finish the last long thing I started from last year ([see here for a nearly endless amount of fluff and OT3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3193064?view_full_work=true)), but this little thing happened instead. Thanks to **breval** for the prompt!

The box that housed the baubles for the Christmas tree has been collecting dust on the coffee table in the living room all week long. They did the decorating Friday last – well, Sam had done the most of it, hanging up the baubles, stringing up the lights, while Gene sat back and watched – supervising, that's what he'd called it. Sam had a few choice sarky comments to shoot back at him for that one, but all in all Sam was in good spirits, and the festive cheer was catching.

Then the rest of the week got in the way, work and more work, and a streak of bad luck, again mostly on Sam's part. All through out that, the top of the tree remained unadorned. Gene's noticed it, but hadn't thought it his place to do anything about it – if Sam wanted something done, all he needed to do was say the word. Sam's noticed it, too, and is resolutely staring at said unadorned top.

'Got a problem over there, hot shot?' Gene hadn't wanted to ask. He'd wanted to enjoy the evening, drink his whisky, watch a bit of telly. Gene's got his drink, but his recliner's on the other side of the room, and Sam and the Christmas tree are in the way. Sam's very obviously trying to make this into something without saying anything at all, and so far he's done a very good job. Sam needs some help, of course he does, seeing as how his right arm is in a sling, and his left wrist is bandaged.

Sam's shoulders square off tensely, it's clear he just scowled. He's been in such a sorry state, but that's his own bloody fault for slipping and falling, not that the patch of ice had helped.

'It's nothing.' His left hand twitches, and Gene rolls his eyes.

Help, that's what Sam needs right now, and Gene knows he _wants_ to ask, but his stubborn pride is stuck in the way – if Sam doesn't just tell him what's wrong, how's Gene supposed to make it all better?

'Need a hand then? Seeing as you're down both of your own.' Maybe he's being mean, Sam's in no state to do it on his own, but he's said the right thing even if he needed to be a prick in the process. Sam turns around quickly, glaring at him, which is one step up from him sulking at the tree.

Gene sighs, sets his drink down, picking the gaudy golden star up from where it was left at the otherwise empty box, turning it over in his hand. 'Is this right here the cause of all your troubles?'

Sam's cheeks darken. 'Actually, that would be the broken arm and the sprained wrist. But yeah, I was just wanting to put the bloody thing on top of the tree, but I'm pretty much helpless right now. When I stretch up it pulls on the broken arm, and...' He trails off, mouth tightening into a grimace. 'I hate feeling like this.'

'I'd noticed,' Gene says, giving another sigh. 'So, seeing as we're a couple now, am I meant to read your mind? Couldn't do it with my missus, don't see why you think I'll be able to with you.'

Sam stares at him, eyes unreadable. Gene fears he's said the wrong thing, only then Sam gives him the slightest of smiles. 'I don't know what you're trying to say, you're much better at this than you give yourself credit for. You knew exactly what the problem was.'

Gene feels his own cheeks heat. 'It was just a lucky guess. Want me to put this up for you, is that it?'

Sam nods, stepping aside. He's smiling so contentedly now, all Gene wants to do is drop the star and kiss Sam instead. But, because he's the Gene Genie and he's here to save the day, he steps up to the tree and reaches up, easily setting the star on top. The kissing can wait for later – neither of them have any other plans, and they have the whole night ahead of them.

'There,' he says, turning to Sam. He meant to say something else, something sarky, but he loses himself in Sam's smile. He gives a little, smiles in return, holds his arm out and Sam presses in close. He folds his arm incredibly carefully about Sam, mindful of his hurts. 'Better?'

'Mhmm. Thank you.'

Another day, Gene might have said 'don't make this into something it's not', but today must be special. He closes his eyes, basking in the light of the tree with a suddenly much happier Sam at his side.


End file.
